Littell's Living Age, 78. köide

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Living Age Company Incorporated, 1863

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Page 169 - Ecstasy ! My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music. It is not madness That I have uttered : bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word ; which madness Would gambol from.
Page 43 - The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring. Grief melts away Like snow in May, As if there were no such cold thing. Who would have thought my...
Page 159 - Thou shalt not deliver unto his master the servant which is escaped from his master unto thee: he shall dwell with thee, even among you, in that place which he shall choose in one of thy gates, where it liketh him best : thou shalt not oppress him.
Page 513 - There St John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul...
Page 168 - Doubt thou the stars are fire ; Doubt that the sun doth move ; Doubt truth to be a liar ; But never doubt I love.
Page 286 - I have been in the deep : in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren : in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.
Page 453 - This rambling propensity strengthened with my years. Books of voyages and travels became my passion, and in devouring their contents, I neglected the regular exercises of the school. How wistfully would I wander about the...
Page 457 - But a woman's whole life is a history of the affections. The heart is her world : it is there her ambition strives for empire ; it is there her avarice seeks for hidden treasures. She sends forth her sympathies on adventure : she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of affection ; and if shipwrecked, her case is hopeless — for it is a bankruptcy of the heart.
Page 69 - If Thou, LORD, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss : O LORD, who may abide it?
Page v - tis heard, Not a mere party shout ; They gave their spirits out, Trusted the end to God, And on the gory sod Rolled in triumphant blood. Glad to strike one free blow. Whether for weal or woe ; Glad to breathe one free breath, Though on the lips of death ; Praying, — alas ! in vain ! — That they might fall again, So they could once more see That burst to liberty ! This was what " freedom

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